The adolescent subplot is treated sweetly by Newell. The awkward dances and dating faux pas at the school ball feel like additions from some other, less mythic series, and form a welcome respite from the intense magic-making of the rest of the film.
Kloves has streamlined J. K. Rowling's 700-plus-page opus into cinematic fighting form. And the special effects, which threatened to overwhelm the first two movies, are seamlessly integrated.
Much of the credit goes to Radcliffe and his co-stars, who have become better actors with each film. They have become increasingly adept at conveying great emotion as each film demands more of them.
For those like me who are outside but sympathetic to the faith, it looks like another handsomely made, good-natured and high-spirited family movie, which is dramatically stymied through being locked within school grounds.
In its last third, The Goblet of Fire builds to a climax of such overpowering dread that you might just forget the rest. Harry grows up in an instant, and the film does, too.
